I'm still waiting for you
by Diana360
Summary: Anakin Organa-Solo is dead. His brother mourns. Ahsoka remembers. Anakin's death acts as that catalyst for the end.
1. moments that the words don't reach

**moments that the words don't reach**

The mortal remains of Anakin Organa-Solo burnt on his funeral pyre. Ben Organa-Solo watched as the fire consumed his brother's body. He felt raw, skinned alive, as if he were on the pyre himself.

He could not summon any tears, but his fists shook. His shields were tightly locked, hiding his anger that would have screamed across the Force. He could only clench his fists tighter, hating.

The only emotion left, it seemed. One he shouldn't feel—but one he couldn't stop.

Tahiri was crying, her eyes red rimmed, gripping the edge of her cloak as silent tears fell, she looked numb, still in disbelief. It had seemed so fast. Anakin had sacrificed himself, for all of them. His last whispering words, Ben had felt, all the pain flickered, a guttering candle to him, he closed his eyes, feeling Anakin's presence as he died again.

 _"I had to—I had… right… the cycle…he killed them...I had to…"_

Ahsoka had tried to quiet him in those last moments. She had cradled him in her lap. There was nothing to be done though. He died.

She had carried his body back herself, wrinkled face etched with sorrow and pain. Tahiri howled her grief as it had echoed desperately into the Force.

Ben had felt his brother's death, his final moments.

Those flames should be consuming him. Not Anakin…

His mother and father were there, next to Evaan, and Ben felt that growing Krayt dragon within his chest unwind. They had caused this! They and-Uncle Luke—who stood by Ahsoka at the pyre.

They had all pushed him, knighted him too young, and pressured him into becoming something he wasn't.

They made him a soldier. Now, a martyr.

With his mother's waning popularity, Anakin had been such a blessing, he truly had been adored, and who didn't love the soft spoken but powerful Jedi Knight, who seemed to embody the New Jedi Order and the New Republic's ideals. It helped that so many found him charming.

But, he had been terrified and unready for all the responsibility. Ben had been there-had held him after a nightmare,

 _"I became him—I became him and I killed you all."_ Anakin had whispered, small face red with tears, fear falling off him in waves.

"It won't happen." Ben had assured him, wiping tears away, but he hadn't been sure, not entirely.

He hadn't even been there for his brother all that much. Neither had Jaina really. Anakin had been left in the care of Ahsoka and others, on a fortified planet due to the risk of being kidnapped or killed.

The fact was, he hadn't been around for Anakin. He had gone to Coruscant, he had gone off with Uncle Luke and trained. He had seen his brother only so often. Ben hated himself too, he admitted this. But, his parents had decided to let others raise their child, they had decided to leave him—even when Anakin needed them too.

Ben stared at the tears in his father's eyes and hated him even more. Both of them.

They should stop pretending they cared! They never did…no one…no one saw what they were doing!

Anakin had been set up as a sacrificial shaak. They had all…they had all done this to him.

It wasn't fair.

His brother deserved more. He deserved better.

"I _am_ sorry." Release. Breathe.

Ahsoka had gathered the ashes, handing a small urn to his parents, and one to scatter herself.

It was all that was left of his brother, a few ashes and dust. But, he felt, if for a fleeting moment—Anakin, in a breeze that brushed through his hair and rustled the leaves-

 _"Love you, Ben."_ A burning image of when Anakin was just a small, giggling mess of brown curls and rosy cheeks, hugging tightly to Ben's middle—and then, just like that, he was gone.

His brother was dead.

His heart ached all the more and the whispering darkness grew as the kindly Snoke placed a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

 _"Get up, boy." Oh no no….tears fell heavy trailing down his cheeks. Pain and fear all boiled together, the heat was dizzying, the sting from the whip on his back, agony again ripped through him as it lashed against his skin, breaking it, burning it. "Please! He won't do it again, he's learned..." a woman desperately pleading, her cries for mercy cut off as the Zygerrian waved the whip threateningly towards her._

 _"10 lashes, I said, for disobedience." He punctuated his statement with yet another fast blow. Ben howled, and again and again, it was never-ending, the shame, the urge to fight reeling in his chest, he wanted to bite, to tear, desperate and wild. He could not._

 _A woman was cleaning him up, palms warm and soothing, her belly round with child. He thought to ask, but couldn't. "Sleep." She had whispered, and he obeyed._

Another dream, of another life. Snoke watched idly, knowing that Ben now writhed in his sleep and stank of fear. Snoke was accomplished, for the images he sent of death and ruin to Anakin II had done their job. The boy was dead and his brother had sank all the more into darkness.

He sighed, if only Anakin had embraced power fully, from before he was born, he knew the youngling was a veritable supernova. Perhaps, as powerful as his grandfather, if not more.

Oh _well_ , a loss, but the spare would do. Ben would serve his purpose. He would bow before a Master before long.


	2. If I can ease one life the aching

**If I can ease one life the aching**

 **Ahsoka's story**

* * *

When Anakin Organa-Solo had been born, Ahsoka had held him right after his father had. He had the tiniest red face, a good set of lungs too, though after his initial cry he seemed content to keep his own counsel. A quiet, contemplative little thing already. She loved him, instantly. Ahsoka was named the Godmother, a tradition not quite kept up, but she appreciated the gesture.

When his small fingers had wrapped around one of hers, she had smiled, and swore to protect this child for the rest of her life. She already counted on him giving her a fair amount of strife, it ran in the family after all, and she wouldn't mind.

In her mind's eye, he was already at her side, a blue blade clasped within his hand, curls of brown hair, and shining ice blue eyes. It seemed strange, that those eyes looked up into hers with such admiration and care.

For so long, someone else had looked down to her with those eyes, and her at him.

When his life was threatened and Leia asked her to protect her child—she agreed, of course, she would. Though, she wondered if this was the right choice, separating the child from his parents—Ahsoka bit her lip. No, this Anakin would know he was loved. The same mistakes would not be made _iwontleaveyounotthistime_

So, she found herself raising a child, a child who was far more serious and thoughtful than his Grandfather. If not still that compassionate, that protective, and she could see the man she had known at times.

But, it frightened Anakin. The dreams he had….he would reach out to her in the Force, and she would see flashes of what he saw, a dark masked figure, the sound of mechanical breathing, her own cooling corpse, the stench of cooked flesh…

He was usually found sleeping in her bed in the morning, and she never minded. It disturbed her, though, how vividly he saw these images.

Using the force was like breathing to him. She hadn't wanted to lie, he might sense she was anyways. So, she told him about his grandfather and what had happened on Malachor. She told him of the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker too, who had cared deeply about his friends and protected them until the end.

She let Luke tell the story of the Battle of Endor, the way Anakin Skywalker had died in the Light, saving his son.

Ahsoka thought of communing with his spirit herself, letting them talk, but…

she remembered the panic in his voice, _"I saw you die! I killed you_!" he was whimpering into her headtails, gripping her tightly.

 _"It was_ _ **him**_ _..I was him. I will become Dark. I will Fall."_ He had seemed so certain, so devastated. Perhaps, they truly had burdened him with such a name.

She thought to when Chewbacca had thrown himself in front of a blaster meant for Anakin, defending the boy and nearly dying himself. Han had blamed Anakin for it. For the subsequent deaths, she had tried to tell him none of it was his fault. Anakin had shook free of her embrace and with the conviction and tears in his eyes, she knew she'd never be able to convince him. Only Han could, but by the time father and son had spoken again, the damage was already done.

He blamed himself for many more deaths and injuries, as if he singlehandedly had caused such destruction and as if only he, could prevent every malady.

She was seeing it all again, a descent that she wondered if she had helped along in the end.

It mattered not what she or Ikrit said anymore. The old Jedi Master had sighed, she knew he loved the boy just as much as she did, and wanted to see him grown and prosper. They both wanted happiness for him.

Ikrit died. Anakin hated himself. Self loathing echoing across their force bond with a desperate sadness. It was all pressing down on him. He wanted to be the best Jedi, wanted to show that he was worth the title of Jedi Knight. That he would not become his grandfather. That he could save everyone, that he would not let anyone get hurt again.

Tahiri had come to Ahsoka, afraid for Anakin. They had drifted apart for a while, it seemed he had trouble with keeping close friends. Some were afraid, some just didn't know how to approach him.

The night before they made the final assault, he had come to Ahsoka. He looked weary, beaten, far from the joyful child she had tickled and read to, and kissed goodnight all those years. At 17, he seemed far older and the deep circles under his eyes spoke of the insomnia which had only gotten worse through the years.

He confessed to her that he had been having nightmares, the same vision, over and over.

He had walked up the steps of the old Jedi Temple, gone into a room where frightened Jedi younglings had peeked up, and one, with trusting blue eyes had stepped up to him.

 _"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them, what are we going to do?"_

His blade ignited. He killed them all. They were all quiet, unable to believe or comprehend. The youngling with eyes as near blue as his own, sat up, midsection split open, _"You have to pay the price."_ He had said, mournfully. _"I'm sorry."_

The floor had become a river of blood, warm, staining, it was choking him, dragging him under.

 _"It's almost over."_ The voice was wistful, soft and sorrowful. A hand had grasped his own, a prosthetic, but lacking the synth-skin of his Uncle Luke's. The vision would always fade with a scent of blood.

She was quiet with his admission. She had ordered him to stay behind. He had disobeyed. He had saved them all.

Ahsoka held Anakin in her arms. "I made the choice." He had gasped to her. "It's over…" Tahiri was yelling, others were gathering. He was weak, life dimming slowly, it was as if a star was going out, warmth fading.

She rocked him like he was once again that youngling placed in her arms for the first time. She sang softly to him, an old nursery song, one that she had sung many times before.

 _"What is the spell, when her fledglings are cheeping,_

 _That lures the bird home to her nest?_

 _Or wakes the tired mother, whose infant is weeping,_

 _to cuddle and croon it to rest?_

 _Whence is the voice that, when anger is burning,_

 _Bids the whirl of the tempest to cease?_

 _That stirs the vexed soul with an aching—a yearning_

 _For the brotherly hand-grip of peace?_

 _Whence the music that fills all our being –that thrills_

 _Around us, beneath and above?_

 _Tis a secret: But the name of the secret is-"_

Ahsoka paused. She was singing to a corpse, nothing more.

 _"For I think it is Love,_

 _For I feel it is Love,_

 _For I'm sure it is nothing but Love !"_

* * *

"Ahsoka's Song" comes from: A Song of Love, Sylvie and Bruno Concluded.


End file.
